Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Coyote bones

This mound of dead coyotes is located outside Pioche, NV near the ruins of an old ore processing plant. Why so many carcasses were specifically placed in that particular spot over the years, on an upside down two-door '68 Chevy Impala, was never made clear. Bob and I found it while poking around the abandoned grounds of the stamp mill they used to extract silver ore from the rock back in the roaring boom days of Pioche (1870-1910). Thanks to Audie I'm researching desert scenes in my image library and re-discovered these. Thanks dude.

It's okay. I made my point. Forget Mother Teresa and my attack on her, I'll concede it was weak and half-tounge in cheek, but this squishyness towards animals will ultimately lead us down a very slippery slope.

I'm not for animal cruelty, but at the same time if I want to squish my sick pet hamster, in my own backyard, with the back of a shovel, that should not become a crime. The same goes for a sick puppy, kitten or chicken, with a variety of tools at my disposal.

Should people be allowed to determine when their pet dies? Can I decide that my dog is too expensive for me to maintain and humanely shoot its brains out in the woods, or will this become a crime?

Will I need the sanction of the state through regulated means of "legal" pet euthanasia via vets, clinics and the pound to do what my ansestors have done for time immemorial? Will I no longer be the sole determiner of my pets fate or will its new found "rights" force me to engage with the state in determining its continued existence? Does my pet have the "right" to a life beyond my own personal desire that it live and breathe?

Like gun ownership and private property, our ability to have some degree of mastery over our doemstic animals has been a fundamental element of human experience for thousands of years, which by the way, is how old cockfighting is.

Beamis said: "this squishyness towards animals will ultimately lead us down a very slippery slope.... [My pet's] new found 'rights' [will] force me to engage with the state in determining its continued existence." Etc.

"The Slippery Slope is a fallacy in which a person asserts that some event must inevitably follow from another without any argument for the inevitability of the event in question. In most cases, there are a series of steps or gradations between one event and the one in question and no reason is given as to why the intervening steps or gradations will simply be bypassed. This 'argument' has the following form:

This sort of 'reasoning' is fallacious because there is no reason to believe that one event must inevitably follow from another without an argument for such a claim."

(Having a law against torturing animals -- i.e., granting animals the right to not be tortured -- does not inevitably lead to sanctions against people who "humanely" end the life of "a sick pet hamster, puppy, kitten or chicken.")

Part Four, the Appeal to Tradition fallacy:

Beamis said: Cockfighting is "thousands of years" old. (Implied: Therefore it is OK.)

and

"My ancestors have done [X] for time immemorial." (Implied: Therefore it is OK.)

And, once again, from http://www.nizkor.org/features/fallacies/appeal-to-tradition.html :

"Appeal to Tradition is a fallacy that occurs when it is assumed that something is better or correct simply because it is older, traditional, or 'always has been done.' This sort of 'reasoning' has the following form:

X is old or traditionalTherefore X is correct or better.

This sort of 'reasoning' is fallacious because the age of something does not automatically make it correct or better than something newer. This is made quite obvious by the following example: The theory that witches and demons cause disease is far older than the theory that microrganisms cause diseases. Therefore, the theory about witches and demons must be true."

For the record, Beamis, I know very few people, if any, with better rhetorical skills than you. Seriously. I'm just pickin' on ya for bein' sloppy here. Maybe blogs is where old philosophy students go to die....

I'm pretty sure it's legal to kill whatever pet you want, but you used the term "humanely," which I think is important. If you wanted to put your dog down by skinning it alive while it hung upside down in a bed of fire ants for a week -- just cuz you thought that'd be cool -- then, yes, I'm very OK with somebody with a badge on their shirt stopping by and intervening.

Ifn you hadn't sold all that corn squeezins years ago to provide folding cash for Stumpy's book learnin', you mightn not be in such a pickle. Ize suggests you throw out a few "Dang nabbits", "Dag Gummits" and "Tarnations" and calls it even. Then commence to finishin' yo bottle of sippin' whiskey.

Actually, we kin add that to the list o' thangs Beamis kin be mad at the gummint fer, cuz the gummint's thuh one what loaned me a lotta dinero fer all that book learnin'.

All right, my last word on the subject will be this groan-inducing joke, which I -- along with Clevis -- first heard from an old drunk on the second-floor balcony of a run-down hotel in Belize City. This'n's fer Andy:

This city slicker decides to move to the country and become a farmer. So he's driving his truck out to his new farm property, and he's thinking about buying some animals for his farm, when he sees a sign that says "Cocks 4 Sale." He pulls over and asks the farmer, "What's a cock?" "A cock is a rooster," says the farmer. So the city slicker buys a rooster and puts it in the back of his truck. A few miles further down the road, the city slicker sees a sign that says "Pullets 4 Sale." He pulls over and asks the farmer what a pullet is. "A pullet is a hen," says the farmer. So the city slicker buys a hen and puts it in the back of his truck with the rooster. The farmer says, "Watch out. If they get agitated, sometimes a pullet and a cock will fight." The city slicker thanks the farmer, and continues on his way. A few miles down the road, he sees a sign that says "Asses 4 sale." He pulls over and asks the farmer what an ass is. "An ass is a donkey," says the farmer. So the city slicker buys a donkey, and puts it in the back of his truck with the other two animals. The farmer says, "I'll tell you one thing about that ass – he's stubborn. If he gets scared, he'll sit down and he won't move til you scratch his belly." "OK," says the city slicker, and he continues on his way. A few miles down the road, the city slicker accidentally runs over a broken bottle, which causes a loud *pop*, and causes his front tire to go flat. He pulls over. The sound of the tire popping frightens the donkey, who then sits down on the spare tire in the back of the truck, and the hen and rooster become agitated and start to fight. The city slicker is not quite sure how to handle the situation, til he sees an elderly woman walking down the street, and as she approaches, he says (not wanting to sound like a city slicker), "Ma'am? May I ask you a favor? Would you hold my cock and pullet while I scratch my ass?"